


A Kitten in the Sarah Rogers Memorial Community Garden

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Series: Just This Once, Everybody Lives [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Fluff, Kidfic, just this once everybody lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 01:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: Steve finds a visitor in the garden.





	A Kitten in the Sarah Rogers Memorial Community Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a tumblr gift to keep the Steve Rogers positivity train going.

It’s May, and beautiful. There’s lemonade, there are new mint plants to find homes for, and nobody is calling his phone. 

Today, Steven Grant Rogers is fully enjoying his retirement. 

It’s easy to get caught up in the garden, and he does it often. Watering and weeding; soil checks. Making sure animals haven’t swiped the literal fruits and vegetables of his labor. It’s also a great way to keep his mind off of the fact that Maggie is now attending preschool. 

‘How the hell did that happen, anyways?’ he thinks as he keeps weeding, and decides it’s time to give up on a particularly unhappy strawberry bush.

There is a rustling sound in the rose bushes, and Steve’s ears perk up immediately. It’s getting late now, and he should be wrapping things up; Maggie will be home soon, and he’s gotta be at the bus stop.

But that rustling. 

He stands carefully, moving quietly across the garden, grasping a hand rake tightly. If it’s a raccoon, this could end with a trip to the hospital and a lot of jokes from Sam about Captain America getting rabies. 

When he pulls the bushes aside, though, it’s not a raccoon at all.

It’s a kitten.

Small, less than a year old, probably, and orange.

It gives a tiny meow, and then runs off, trotting away quickly in fear. 

Steve frowns. 

“Aw.” 

***** 

Sam shakes his head as he watches his friend carefully set down a small bowl of cream. “Okay. This is definitely the softest thing you’ve ever done.” 

“You know, you say that, but you’ve never seen me wear onea Maggie’s flower crowns,” Steve tells him as he dusts off his hands. 

“Yeah, okay, Mr. You get killed, shake it off.” 

Steve grins ruefully and sits down on the bench swing. “Go away before you scare the kitten.” 

“There isn’t a kitten.” 

“There might be soon.” 

Sam shakes his head and laughs. “You better send me a picture of this thing, otherwise it might be time to send grandpa to the funny farm.” 

“Bye, Sam.” 

After he leaves, Steve sits back and waits. It’s another nice day; a little hotter, but fine. 

He waits for about an hour, tapping his booted foot gently in the dirt, before he hears the rustling again, and freezes. 

The kitten - the same kitten - stumbles out of the rose bushes again, looking around. It’s tail is a little matted, but it seems okay; happy to sniff the air and follow its nose to the bowl of cream. 

Steve lights up when the little thing starts lapping some up, dunking a paw in and licking the cream off.

He watches for a little while as the kitten eats, before he slowly, carefully bends over, and scoops it up.

It yelps and writhes and Steve barely keeps hold, before the little sucker is gnawing on the meat between his forefinger and thumb. 

“Gah,” he says, but doesn’t let go.

The cat pees on his jeans and frowns. 

“Yeah. Okay. I get it. If a big scary monster grabbed me, I might pee too.” 

Which is not at all true. He’s been grabbed by plenty of big, scary things (Thanos. Ultron. That one time with the Hulk…), but he’s trying to relate.

***** 

The local vet is nice. An older man whose office walls are covered in photos of dogs and cats and birds and ferrets and hampsters and guinea pigs of all shapes, colors and sizes. 

Steve watches calmly as he checks out the kitten. 

“Well, he’s definitely a he,” the vet says. “And he seems pretty healthy for a kitten who hasn’t spent much time with his mother.” 

Steve nods. “He okay to adopt?” 

“Oh, I don’t see why not,” the vet grins. “He’ll need to be neutered and we’ll have to do some blood work. Check him for worms and fleas and diseases. Why don’t you leave him here overnight, and I’ll call you in the next day or two with a status update.” 

Steve hesitates. 

“I promise I’ll call, Captain.” 

He nods. “Yeah. Okay.” 

***** 

“A kitty?!” Maggie squeaks as they eat dinner that night. “Really?!” 

“Yep,” Steve grins. “He was in the garden. He’s hangin’ out with the animal doctor right now, but if he gets a clean bill of health, I can bring him home.” 

“We’re gonna have a kitty?!” Maggie cries, so excited that she knocks over her sippy cup, which Steve catches quickly. 

“Yep!” Steve grins. “We’re gonna have a kitty.” 

“What do we name him?” Maggie asks. “Where will he sleep? Does he get his own room?” 

Steve chuckles. “He can sleep on the couch.” 

Maggie frowns. “Where will Uncle Bucky sleep when he visits?” 

“They’ll just have to share,” Steve grins. “As for a name, we’ll have to think on it.” 

“What about Buttercup?” Maggie asks. 

Steve chuckles. “Let’s keep thinkin.” 

***** 

Steve picks up the kitten two days later. Little guy’s got a clean bill of health, and Steve watches him as he explores the apartment, jumping on tables and wiggling his way underneath the couch.

Steve grabs a chair and settles down, just watching. It’s nice to have a pet. He never had one as a kid, but he fed neighborhood strays all the time.

His mother had always liked animals. Sure, she was a nurse for people, but there were plenty of days the neighborhood kids would come to Sarah Rogers with wounded dogs and cats and she’d fix ‘em up, feed ‘em water. 

He can almost hear her voice, giving firm but kind instructions on animal care.

_“Not so different from people,”_ Sarah Rogers would muse when Mrs. Grossman next door would chide her on wasting food and resources on injured dogs and sickly cats. _“And if God put ‘em on Earth with us, he didn’t do it just for us to ignore their pain.”_

Steve smiles sadly, and blinks, looking down to find the kitten sitting at his feet, wagging his tail. 

“Hungry, Buddy?” Steve asks, getting up. 

The cat’s butt wiggles and he pounces suddenly, gripping onto Steve’s jeans. 

He chuckles. “Okay. Let’s to a trip to the kitchen. I gotcha some nice Fancy Feast.” 

***** 

When Maggie gets home, the kitten suddenly has another playmate, and it’s clear that they’re going to be attached at the hip. 

“Still needs a name,” Steve reminds her after dinner that night. 

She lays on the floor with the kitten lying on her chest. “What about…Tigger.” 

Steve considers. “Maybe. He did pounce on my leg earlier to hitch a ride.” 

Maggie giggles. “I hope he does it again, I wanna see.” 

Steve grins, and reaches out, petting the kitten’s head. “Hm. What about…Ralph?” 

Maggie light up. “Like Wreck-It Ralph? We watched that movie it was funny!” 

“Yeah. You like that name?” Steve asks, smiling at her. 

Maggie beams at the cat. “Kitty your name is Ralph now. Is that good?” 

Ralph gets up, turns in a circle, and then settles back down on Maggie’s chest, tucking his little head into his arms and purring. 

“I think he likes it,” Steve grins. 

***** 

When Maggie goes to bed that night, Ralph follows her and settles down on the bed, curling up again.

Steve grins and snaps a picture with his phone before sending it to Sam.

_“Who’s the crazy old grandpa now?”_ he texts. 

_“It’s still you,”_ Sam responds.

Steve smirks, and heads to bed.


End file.
